


I've Waited Three Years, I Can Wait a Little More

by Sleepless_Soil



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - After College/University, Amnesia, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Established Relationship, Getting Back Together, Hopeful Ending, Lance is an idiot, M/M, Memory Loss, Retail Worker Lance, Strangers to Friends, a little sad, but he's a smart boy, old money keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-15 15:34:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16935909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepless_Soil/pseuds/Sleepless_Soil
Summary: Three years. It’s been three years since Lance saw him. That hair. His shape. His smile. His face. Keith. The only new features are two scars on his face. One thin, pink, scar adorns the male’s right cheek. It runs from underneath his jawline, to an inch below his eye. The second scar is tiny and white. A crescent against his right side under his bottom lip. Ocean eyes glance over the figure. Lance is angry. Three years since he saw his ex. No communication, no contact, and yet, here Keith stood. In his checkout line at Macy’s. Lance glares daggers at the older man, while coldly calling next. Keith wears a polite smile, looking nervous if Lance’s glare is anything to go by its justified.“Just these, thanks.” Keith calls. Pale hands glide his purchase past the counter into tan hands. His eyes shift down to blue eyes cold as ice. Lance is about to break. Yell. Scream at the man that broke his heart, but it comes crashing to a halt when Keith continues to look nervously at the angry Cuban.“I’m sorry? Did I do something? You keep looking at me like you want to murder me. My names Keith, it’s nice to meet you.”Lance’s world comes crashing down a second time in his life. Monday’s were the worst.





	1. Seeing You for the First Time in Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoy this. I'm still working on my writing style and how I write each fic differently. My second fic is still my favorite. and pls don't judge me for the first. The writing is lazy and so is the grammar. I still like the idea of the fic so I left it up but my eyes can't re-read that, even if I want to fix it. lol. Hope you enjoy this!
> 
> ~Thanks for all the comments and Kudos they are appreciated!!!

Three years. It’s been three years since Lance saw him. That hair. His shape. His smile. His face. Keith. The only new features are two scars on his face. One thin, pink, scar adorns the male’s right cheek. It runs from underneath his jawline, to an inch below his eye. The second scar is tiny and white. A crescent against his right side under his bottom lip. Ocean eyes glance over the figure. Lance is angry. Three years since he saw his ex. No communication, no contact, and yet, here Keith stood. In his checkout line at Macy’s. Lance glares daggers at the older man, while coldly calling next. Keith wears a polite smile, looking nervous if Lance’s glare is anything to go by its justified.

 

“Just these, thanks.” Keith calls. Pale hands glide his purchase past the counter into tan hands. His eyes shift down to blue eyes cold as ice. Lance is about to break. Yell. Scream at the man that broke his heart, but it comes crashing to a halt when Keith continues to look nervously at the angry Cuban. 

 

“I’m sorry? Did I do something? You keep looking at me like you want to murder me. My names Keith, it’s nice to meet you.” 

 

Lance’s world comes crashing down a second time in his life. Monday’s were the worst.

 

======================================

 

Time stops. No, it keeps ticking like it always has.  _ Lance  _ stops. He’s frozen in place. Breath still held in waiting to be exhaled.

 

*whoosh*

 

Lance’s voice squeaks, “What?” 

 

Keith tilts his head to the side. Eyeing the brunet up and down. Lance’s hands hold a slight tremor. His eyes itch. He stopped crying long ago, but seeing him here,  _ now _ , his eyes itch.

 

“I’m sorry. Have we met before? You seem awfully familiar. I’m new in town. Well, new-ish. I just moved back like a month ago. I swear we’ve met before. I’m sorry,” his hand tapped his head, “brains a bit scrambled.”

 

Lance wants to think he’s a smart man. He is, really. In this moment though? He does what he knows best. He panics.

 

“Ah,” His gaze shifts side to side. Hands fidgeting with Keith’s recently purchased items. “Nope! I’ve never seen you before.”

 

A pause.

 

A breath.

 

Disappointment.

 

“Oh,” he said, as he slowly hands over his card. “My bad. You, you just look familiar. Sometimes I get that way.” He pauses. Staring into Lance’s eyes like he’s trying to figure something out. A puzzle. His shoulders drop, so do his eyes. “Sorry.” comes a murmur.

 

Keith takes his bag and card. Lance watches as he walks away. High tops squeak against tile. A missed connection gone in an instant.

 

Reality soon catches up to Lance. It smacks into him like that one time in second grade where he jumped from a tree and landed smack on his ass. Keith was in front of him! Keith didn’t  _ know  _ him. He didn’t  _ remember _ . His first instinct is to cry, his second is to run after him. He hasn’t cried in three years. Option two was taken instead.

 

Long legs carry him past the checkout counter. Past the Men’s half off button-downs. Past the mannequin that lost its hand a month ago. Through the heavy glass doors into the parking lot. The parking lot that’s suspiciously empty. 

 

The tears flow. 

 

Lance goes home.

 

=======================================================

 

Waking up wasn’t pleasant. He didn’t sleep well. Lance spent more than half the night contemplating his idiocy. Keith. He spent three years angry at someone who didn't even remember him. Three years mad and depressed that Keith didn't call or text. He doesn't know what happened. but what he does know, is he feels incredibly guilty. Keith doesn't remember him. He thinks he liked it better when he thought Keith just left him. Keith, that burned hotter than the sun but quickly cooled to a low simmer to gentle caresses. Keith was always good at that. He got angry. He would never yell, never scream. He didn’t like to raise his voice. He did however, grit his teeth and speak through seething words. He ran hot. Just like a fire he would cool down and explain himself, explain the situation. The embers never died.  _ That _ was Keith,  _ that _ , was the passionate, loving ex he remembered. Yet, Lance laid in his bed cold. Nothing fiery or passionate at his side. 

 

He could only lay there and think. After three years Keith comes back with no memory of the man he dated for four years. The man he ghosted for another three. What happened? Where did he go? Why was he never contacted? A million questions floated around his head. They might have been answered if Lance was a little faster. A little less shocked at seeing him. He could have reached him. He could have grabbed him, turning him around to see Keith’s bright smile. He wasn’t fast enough.

His eyes drifted to the small alarm clock on his nightstand. The clocks red numbers glared back into his exhausted eyes. Ten o’clock, time to get up. 

Lance’s routine became, well, a mindless task. Singing and dancing was usually involved, but today it became mindless. Get up. Bathroom. Brush teeth. Clothes. Hair. breakfast. Brush teeth. Water Red. Keys. Wallet. Phone. Door. Car. Work.

 

He felt like a robot. Numbing tasks that were once bright now seemed like nothing. Work went by slow, or was it fast? It didn’t really matter for Lance. After his encounter yesterday he felt nothing. The drive home was quick. Lance was a little scared when he stepped through the front door, not even remembering the drive home. He needed to get himself together.


	2. Maybe Our Journey Hasn't Ended

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe fate plays a part in Lance's life.

Thursday was brought with rain showers. Looking out the window Lance preened. The first rain shower in weeks. It was his day off. He was going to enjoy it. With energy he hadn’t had before Monday, Lance shot out of bed to get ready. Shoving a piece of toast in his mouth he hopped on one foot to the door while trying to pull on his rain boots. The door slammed behind him as he raced down the hall. The doorman opened the front door nodding in a polite, “Hello,” while Lance looked for puddles. 

 

He splashed all the way to the park.

 

Besides the overcast sky, Lance thought it was a beautiful day. He made his way to his favourite spot; the pond. Several people braved the weather in the park. People walked their dogs, or walked themselves. An array of umbrellas and hoods protected stranger’s heads. His eyes scanned the area. Flowers still bloomed in the field to his left and the pond came into view ahead of him. A bridge crossed over a stream that lead into the pond. The bridge and pond reminded him of Monet. The bridge a little sturdier and pond lacking the same amount of lily pads. His pace picked up, excited to watch the rain patter against the pond, becoming one again with the water.

 

A lone figure stood on the bridge looking at the pond. His back was turned to Lance and his blue umbrella covered the back of his head. Lance stood beside him. The figure turned, making eye contact with him. If you were to listen closely, above the patter of the rain, two men quietly gasp. Black hair and grey eyes met brown hair and ocean blues.

 

Fate wasn’t done with Lance McClain.

 

====================================

 

“Oh. It’s you.” Keith exclaimed. His brows pinched together. The same expression Lance fell in love with all those years ago.

 

“Ye-yeah it’s me.”

 

Keith turned away. Lance traced his outline. The curve of his face, his nose that slanted a little to the left, broken four times over five years when he was ten, and his broad shoulders. He was the same man Lance fell asleep and woke up to. The same man that danced with him while making breakfast. The same man that would kick ice cubes under the fridge. The same man that cried when the houseplants died. The same man who gave Lance the red succulent for his birthday. The same man that Lance carried to the hospital when he had a broken ankle and no cell reception, that was more worried about Lance than he was himself. The same man who told him he’d be leaving for two months to move in with his sick brother. The same man Lance bought a silver ring for.

 

Lance’s breath hitched. He didn’t know what to feel. Too many emotions swirled in his mind. Loss, fear, longing, love. He didn’t know what emotion to choose. The silence was broken by Keith. He used his quiet voice. The voice Lance heard during late night discussions in bed. The voice he used while reading, when shy. The one he used when he wasn’t certain of the situation. The one he used when Lance was feeling off and needed comfort. 

 

“I-I’m sorry if I freaked you out earlier. I just have this nagging feeling we’ve met before. When I look at you my brain thinks ‘home’ but I don’t know you. You said we never met before...are you certain?”

 

Lance is quiet. 

 

The rain falls, so does Lance.

 

“You know,” Lance whispers, against his better judgment,“when we first met we hated each other. We were eighteen and fresh into college. You came into our english lecture looking like some eighties reject and sat right next to me,” Lance laughs. His fingers swirl water into wood. “I was so mad. There were sooo many open seats and yet, you sat  _ right _ next to me. I got annoyed and yelled at you. You quiped me with something stupid. We went through two months of bickering yet neither of us changed seats.” Lance pauses. He has Keith’s full attention. Rain water drips from his scar. He’s beautiful.

 

“It took you spilling tea on me for us to fully click. You asked me out to pay me back. Three months later we were dating. I asked you out first. I was so nervous  I threw up in your dorms bushes. You noticed, didn’t say anything. All you did was pull out a pack of gum, chew a piece and went ‘oh, do you want some?’ I don’t think I have ever fallen in love so fast. We fought constantly. Although I couldn’t call it fighting. We bickered. It was about the weather or who ate the last slice of pizza in the box, whose turn it was to bring coffee or tea. It was good. It was fun. Safe. A year later we moved in together. And I-  _ we-  _ fell in love. You left to stay with your brother for awhile. We talked almost everyday. Then- you just stopped calling, you wouldn’t answer or pick up. I got a single message saying your number was changed. I would have went, Korea’s expensive, and I didn’t have enough money to try and look for you.”

 

He sounds and looks defeated. If only he  _ had  _ gone to Korea. Maybe- maybe he wouldn’t have wasted three years being mad at Keith for something he couldn’t control. He looks over to gauge Keith’s expression. He has a soft, sad smile. He looks broken. The fire still sits behind his eyes, dull, faded, but still burning. He looks away like he’s been burned. Time is funny, Lance thinks. In this moment the rain seems to slow, time stops. Keith has rain on his face, streaking down like the day he left for the airport promising to call when he arrived, and he did. They're looking at each other. Eyes locked. One set in sadness and longing, the other in love and loss. Time doesn’t stop for anyone, the moment is gone. Both men look away, cheeks red and eyes itchy.

 

Something shifts.

 

“I can’t remember much. Everything's still there. I know my name, how to function, who my family is. Everything after high school is fuzzy. I know five years ago I took a trip to the Alps with someone. I remember the view and the place. I know I slept next to a warm body that woke me with kisses. I just can’t remember who. I know I attended Garrison University. I had friends, I studied space and flight. I remember the smell of cinnamon and vanilla. You-” Keith’s voice cracked, “ you smell like cinnamon and vanilla. I know three years ago I got into a car with Takashi on our way to his appointment. I know a driver ran a red light. I know my legs were pinned and my face was numb. Shiro was unconscious in the back seat. He- he had his arm out the window. We were unlucky enough that the car struck our side of the car. Our driver and the opposing driver left without a scratch. I don’t remember but I  _ know  _ I woke up a week later with scrambled memories and a nose that kept smelling cinnamon and vanilla.”

 

Lance was sobbing. He hadn’t cried in three years, yet in the matter of a few days he’s cried at least five times. Keith’s holding him now, unable to keep his own tears at bay.

 

“I-I didn’t know what was going on. The hospital got in contact with my mom. They couldn’t find any other emergency contact. She was under Shiro’s info. We hadn’t talked in a few years, she-she didn’t know my whole life. I didn’t know I had anyone waiting at home. Shiro spent another week in a coma, another three months of therapy until he could be fit with a prosthetic. Our lives kind of stopped. He couldn’t remember everything and neither could I. PTSD and head trauma isa’ bitch.”

 

They stood there. Grips holding tight on what they lost. Someone who can’t remember the past and desperately wants it back. Another who wanted to forget the past and focus on the future. Both wanting to move forward. Move together. They were friends. They were lovers. They were strangers. Not everything could be filled in at once. Wounds can’t heal in a day, but they mend over time. They would start out at friends again. Keith always caught the glances Lance gave him, full of love. Lance would never miss Keith’s eyes, so full of curiosity and wanting to know, learn, more. 

 

They stood apart. Sad smiles on their faces. Rain slowly finding its way inside their clothes. Keith held out a hand.

 

“I’m Keith Kogane.”

 

“Lance McClain.”

 

Blue and red walked forward hands not quite brushing, but that would change over time.


End file.
